should not be here. by nearly all medical prognostication and statistical realism, I should not be here. In fact, anyone with any wagering savvy might have—and quite justifiably—placed her chips on someone else. But lives do not always adhere to probabilities, bell curves, or standard deviations. Personal will favors the long game over the short; determination and hopefulness strive for the less likely instead of the more—the extreme rather than the mean. I have lived for 28 years with quadriplegia, a duration that is, in itself, far outside of the expected. However, the circumstances under which I became quadriplegic reduce the likelihood of this longevity even further. It was 1990, and I was 11 years old. In what maybe I thought was idyllic or quintessentially American, I was walking home from my first day of junior high school in an unrelentingly charming Long Island town. The distance between my house and my junior high school was transected by a major highway where cars travel fast and pedestrians with trepidation. By foot or car, there was no way to get to my home from my school if not over this highway: the divide has since come to symbolize two different vantage points from which I now understand my life.

中文翻译：

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作为教授的病人：我作为四肢瘫痪者的生活如何塑造了我作为伦理学家的思考

不应该在这里。根据几乎所有的医学预测和统计现实主义，我不应该在这里。事实上，任何精通投注的人都可能——而且完全有理由——将她的筹码放在其他人身上。但生活并不总是遵循概率、钟形曲线或标准差。个人意志有利于长期游戏而不是短期游戏；决心和希望争取更不可能而不是更多——极端而不是平均。我已经患有四肢瘫痪 28 年了，这个持续时间本身就远远超出了预期。然而，我成为四肢瘫痪的情况进一步降低了这种长寿的可能性。那是 1990 年，我 11 岁。也许我认为是田园诗般的或典型的美国，我从初中的第一天步行回家，在一个迷人的长岛小镇。我家和初中的距离被一条主干道横断，车行飞快，行人惊慌失措。从学校步行或开车，如果不走这条高速公路，就无法从学校到我家：从那时起，鸿沟象征着两个不同的有利位置，我现在可以从中了解自己的生活。